I smoothed away my scowl before it could twist my lips and kept my full attention on Giuseppe.

“Your scheme with Dante is over,” I declared. “Your loyalty lies with me. We’ll put this behind us and move forward as a true family. After all, you’re my father-in-law now.”

“You’re not fit to take your father’s place,” Giuseppe seethed, gnarled fingers curling at his sides.

“No, you just don’t want me to because you think I’ll eliminate you at the first opportunity.” My hands itched with the keen desire to wrap around his neck and do just that. “But we’re allied now, whether you like it or not. I won’t kill a member of my family, and you won’t defy me again.”

His hazel eyes narrowed. “Or what? What will you do? Brutalize my daughter?” He shrugged, and my fists clenched with the need to strangle him.

Did he truly not care if I beat Nora?

No, the old bastard didn’t give a shit if I hurt her. I should’ve known. After the way he’d treated my mother, I knew the motherfucker was callous and cruel. I just hadn’t expected that indifference to extend to his own flesh and blood.

I sipped my whiskey and leaned back in my chair, drawing on all my willpower to appear unperturbed. “No, I’ll divorce her, and your entire family will be disgraced. You will fall out of favor, and your influence will wane. You can’t win this, old man.”

He jerked back as though I’d punched him in the face. “You wouldn’t. It would kill your father if you caused a rift between our families.”

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “My father is a dead man walking. I’m thinking of the future. I am the future. You can fall in line, or you can get left behind. It’s your choice.”

He gnashed his teeth. “Dante will kill you.”

“He can try, but he won’t get any help from you. Will he?” I had him cornered, and he knew it.

When he’d tried to arrange the marriage between Dante and Nora, it’d been a signal of his support for my rival. Now that Nora was married to me, Giuseppe’s power play was at an end. Any move against me, his own son-in-law, would be seen as a declaration of war, and he would tear our organization apart. He would jeopardize his position of power by weakening our crime family and making us vulnerable to the Russians.

The old bastard wouldn’t risk it.

“Don’t make trouble for me, and I won’t make trouble for you,” I told him coldly. “You can keep your money and your influence. Your life will be unchanged. You will bless this marriage, and we will make peace.”

I stood and extended my hand between us. My skin crawled at the prospect of making contact with the man I hated most in the world, but I would see this through. I wouldn’t lose my birthright because I couldn’t control my own emotions. I was stronger than that. Stronger than this motherfucker, who let spite and fear rule him.